


Pride

by idekwhatimdoin



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Русский | Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:49:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idekwhatimdoin/pseuds/idekwhatimdoin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small smile spread across his lips as a teasing tone joined his voice. “Ya zabyl prinesti vam tsvety. (I forgot to bring you flowers)” A light smack to his arm sent him laughing softly, completely unaffected by the insult that was thrown at him.</p><p>“Vy mudak. (you asshole)” Though to others it would sound offensive, but to Vladimir he could hear the joke in his brother’s voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I haven't completely edited this yet so just bare with me until I have time to. Thanks! And if you don't like the idea of incest, then bye bye.

“ _Etot ublyudok._ **(That bastard)** ” Vladimir cursed as he glanced once more at his watch, seeing that it’s been more than enough time for Anatoly to meet with Fisk. He checked his phone, zero missed calls and zero messages.  
  
The blood in his veins bubbled violently with annoyance and yet a hint of worry surrounded Vladimir as he paced within his office. Most would think that for such an aggressive, short tempered male that literally could intimidate the hell out of you with just a look, his worry was out of character. But for those who’d seen him with his brother, they knew just how much Vladimir loved his younger sibling.  
  
_Where was he?_ Vladimir thought as he gave a frustrated growl, plopping himself down into his chair, fingers drumming on the desk’s surface. Maybe he’d been too hard on Anatoly when the idea of asking Fisk for help arose.  
  
_“_ _Nam nuzhna yego pomoshch', brat._ ** _(We need his help, brother)_** _” Anatoly spoke, glancing around them at the battered garage. The walls now littered with cracks from the sheer force the man in the mask had sent their men flying. Cans of black spray paint rolled on the ground, taxis that were close to the fight, supporting dents from where their men had collided._  
  
_“_ _YA ne budu preklonyat'sya pered etim chelovekom!_ ** _(_** ** _I will not bow before that man)_** _” Vladimir yelled rapidly encroaching upon Anatoly’s person, mere centimeters from his face. As quick as he’d come he was then stalking away. Glancing briefly at Sergei who lent against a nearby pillar, seeing just how much damage the man in the mask had inflicted upon them. Vladimir hated Fisk. The way that pig paraded them; like dogs on leashes. The gall he had, to question his business, his leadership._  
  
_“_ _Togda ya poydu…_ ** _(_** ** _Then I will go)_** _” Anatoly spoke softly, drawing Vladimir’s attention back to the younger who inturn tilted his head, lips pursed, “_ _i luk dlya nas oboikh._ ** _(_** ** _and bow for both of us)_** _”_  
  
_Resigning himself, Vladimir couldn’t deny the apprehension that blossomed within him. Thoughts immediately sprung to his mind of the danger to Anatoly going alone. Loathed, as he was to admit it, they needed Fisk for his help. “Go.”_  
  
_“_ _Sdelayte sdelku._ ** _(_** ** _Make the deal)_** _” Nodding, Anatoly left._  
  
After hearing his brothers’ voicemail once again, Vladimir closed his phone shut once more. Another voicemail, another message left. It taunted him.  
  
“ _Gde yebat' ty_. **(Where the fuck are you)** ”  
  
“ _Eto snova ya. Perezvonite mne, govnyuk._ **(It’s me again. Call me back, shithead)** ”  
  
It seemed like perfect timing that he’d ended the message for the door was knocked on, Vladimir tossing “ _zakhodi_ **(come in)** ” As soon as the door was pushed open, Vladimir narrowed his eyes harshly at the suited man before him.  
  
“My employer sends his regards.” Wesley started as soon as he started walking towards Vladimir’s desk, Vladimir settling himself down in the chair once more.  “And his gratitude that his offer was accepted. There are still a few small details we'd like to iron out before-” Vladimir watched as Wesley looked around the room in slight confusion, knowing that where the older was, the younger was bound to be found. But, in this case, was absent from his brother’s side. “Uh, where's your brother?”  
  
There was silence as Vladimir stared at Wesley with a hard eyes, an accusing tone to his voice along with a hint that spelled out ‘no bullshit’. “This is a thing I was going to ask you. Last time I saw him, he was heading to see Mr.-” Vladimir clenched his jaw at having to keep from saying Fisk’s name, seeing the amusement in Wesley’s eyes, “your employer.”  
  
“He practically kissed me when we agreed to terms.” Wesley explained after he chuckled at Vladimir as the Russian came to a halt in his words. “He have a girl or a boy he might be celebrating with? You try his cell?”  
  
“He does not answer.” Vladimir stated curtly.  
  
“Try again. We need to lock this down and get distribution back to acceptable levels.” The door opened without knocking and Vladimir shifted his eyes to look at who had entered without permission, shaking his head as to signal that he did not care for whatever the information his henchmen had for him. Though, once Sergei came into his sight, he immediately became aware that the news was urgent, immediately knowing that the news he was to receive was not good from the look on Sergei’s face.  
  
“ _My nashli yego._ **(We found him)** ”  
  
Vladimir had hoped that Sergei would have said that they’d found Anatoly in a bar passed out drunk, or in a random girl’s (or guy’s) apartment, naked and in bed with the other person. But his worries were reinforced as soon as the car holding him, Sergei and Wesley drove up to a hospital, his heart jumping into his throat as they drove up the driveway and stopped at the entrance. The alcoholic smell of disinfectant and pristine sterilization of the place stung his nose as soon as he walked in, 3 other Russians bringing up the back as Vladimir made his way to the front desk. Wesley stepped up, giving the lady at the front desk Anatoly’s name while Vladimir spaced out of the conversation as he looked around the place. Injured people were sitting in the chairs that were spread around the lobby, eyeing the group of Russians that had just walked in, Vladimir catching their eyes with an annoyed snarl before their eyes darted away. _Vrediteley_ **(Pests).** He thought before they were on the move again, and he could only hope for the best as they reached the door that Anatoly was held behind.  
  
_“Moy brat_. **(My brother)** ” As soon as Vladimir had seen Anatoly in the bed, wires and machines hooked up to him, he immediately felt something that wasn't completely unfamiliar, but was extremely uncomfortable, strike at him as he swiftly made his way towards the bed’s edge. “ _Gde?_ **(Where)** ”  
  
“ _On byl broshen na stoyanke za uglom_ **(he was dumped in the lot around the corner)**.” Sergei explained before he stepped forwards, reaching for something that was hidden within his jacket. Vladimir’s eyes took one look at the black material in his hand, fingers clenching around it as his jaw tensed.  
  
“The man in the mask.” Wesley spoke when he saw the mask Vladimir held.  
  
“ _On posylayet nam soobshcheniye._ **(He sends us a message)** ” Sergei said.  
  
“ _Vozlozhite kazhdyy u nas na ulitse. Nayti yego._ **(Put every man we have on the street. Find him)** ” Vladimir ordered as he threw the mask to the side, hearing the satisfying ‘clink’ it had as soon as it landed in the waste bin. He took the younger’s hand in his own, gripping it firmly yet softly. “ _I prinesi mne yego golovu._ **(And bring me his head)** ”

  
* * * * *

  
Now that he was alone with Anatoly, he could really look at the beating that the younger had received. Although the blood had been removed, he could tell that his brother had taken a beating to the head, bruises covering his face here and there and a few stitches against his hairline indicating that they were the sources of the bleeding. Anatoly’s left arm was in a cast, not one that was for a broken arm, so he could guess that it was sprained. He had little idea as to what damaged Anatoly’s body had taken for it was hidden beneath the hospital gown he was in, but Vladimir could tell it was bad from the IV bag that was attached to him.  
  
“Tolya.” Vladimir resigned, setting himself down in the chair that was next to the bed, hand never leaving Anatoly’s. “ _Eto moya oshibka. YA dolzhen byl poyti s vami._ **(This is my fault. I should have gone with you)”**  
  
Its was moments of silence before a wheezing, raspy voice broke it. _“Vy nikogda ne mogli by otpustit' vashey gordosti._ **(You never could let go of your pride)** ” Steel blue eyes snapped up to see the deeper blue ones he’d grown up with staring back at him through heavy lids. Vladimir shot from his chair, leaning on the railing of the bed.  
  
“Tolya.” A fatigued smile met him as Anatoly shifted in the bed, only for his face to twist into one of pain. He groaned, Vladimir already moving to keep the younger from moving anymore, sparing him from inflicting more pain onto himself. “ _Yesli ya mog by otpustit' moyu gordost' i poshel s vami,_ **(if I could have let go of my pride and gone with you)** ” he brushed a hand along the bruises on Anatoly’s face, hearing the hiss that left the other as they hit certain large bruises, “ _eto nikogda by ne proizoshlo._ **(this would never have happened)** ”  
  
“ _Eto byla ne vasha vina._ **(It wasn’t your fault)** ”  
  
“ _Kak ty voobshche takoye mog skazat'?_ **(How can you say that)** ” Vladimir spoke. The tone he had gave the idea that he was outraged the Anatoly even thought such a thing, gesturing to the length of his body. “ _Posmotrite na to, chto chelovek v maske sdelal dlya vas._ **(Look at what the man in the mask did to you)** ”  
  
“ _Yesli by ya byl tam, on dolzhen byl by v nem sto pul', prezhde chem on mog dazhe polozhit' ruku na vas._ **(If i'd been there, he'd have a hundred bullets in him before he could even lay a hand on you)** ”  
  
_“Zatem perestat' dumat' o tom, kak ranenyy ya._ **(Then stop thinking about how injured I am)** ” Anatoly stated, eyes holding Vladimir’s steady as the older let out a low breath, clearly angered at himself. The younger reached up as best he could, ignoring the pain it caused in his torso, laying his hand on the older’s cheek. _“My poluchili pomoshch' Fisk i ya ne umer, khorosho?_ **(We got Fisk's help and I'm not dead, ok)”**  
  
It took a while for Vladimir to answer, but he did. _“Khorosho. YA ostanovlyus'._ **(Fine. I’ll stop)** ” He took Anatoly’s hand from his cheek, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. A small smile spread across his lips as a teasing tone joined his voice. “ _Ya zabyl prinesti vam tsvety_. **(I forgot to bring you flowers)** ” A light smack to his arm sent him laughing softly, completely unaffected by the insult that was thrown at him.  
  
“ _Ty mudak._ **(you asshole)** ” Though to others it would sound offensive, but to Vladimir he could hear the joke in his brother’s voice.  



End file.
